


Fissure

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 07:18:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin is walking home alone after some fun at the bar when he’s suddenly attacked and dragged to an alleyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fissure

**Author's Note:**

> There’s some near translucent Geovin if you squint hard enough. I’ve had this scenario in my head for weeks now and had to write it out. I’ll apologize for it’s atrocity up front.  
> This is my first work posted to AO3. Hopefully it is up to the standards!
> 
> Word Count: 5545

Gavin wasn’t exactly sure why he elected to walk home. He assumed it had something to do with the number of Jack and Cokes he had consumed at the bar, but regardless he still like to think he had more self-preservation than that… didn’t he? The problem wasn’t so much the walking home bit, but the realization that he had been watched all throughout the night. At the club with Michael and Lindsay he had known someone was watching him, had felt the eyes on his back and when he turned, expecting to meet a nice lady he might be able to take home, he instead found the cold stare of a hard-looking man across the room. The man gave him the chills so he had tried to ignore him in his uneasy state and downed as many drinks as he could without getting sick.

In hindsight, that was the worst move. Now he was walking home by himself and the feeling of those eyes on him still just would not go away. He didn’t understand it. It was almost as if he was being followed but every time he turned around to look for himself, there was no one there. So he pushed on, relieved when he finally found a street he recognized and knew he wasn’t too far from where he wanted to be; warm and safe in his bed.

It was walking past a couple of tightly spaced buildings, ready to turn onto his home street, that he heard the noise. It wasn’t anything major, just a simple little noise that could have been a cat or a rat or something else that liked to lurk in the Austin nighttime. Despite what it could have been, Gavin felt the stutter in his step and stopped, suddenly on high alert. The drink made it disorienting and he tried to shake the way the world was almost spinning on its axis. He just wanted to get home.

He no sooner took one step forward to continue his journey, than a hand came down hard upon his shoulder, making him yelp with surprise. He tried to turn and face whoever was touching him, but his back was suddenly pressed up against something fleshy and solid and a hand had wrapped around his mouth to prevent any more sounds from coming out. Despair flooded through his limbs as he went over the situation.

_I’m going to die. This is it. This is the end for me._

But there was no gunshot. There was no knife in his side or smothering of his face and restriction of his breathing. His attacker simply began to drag him back towards the alley between the close buildings, heavy breathing in his ear as he dug his heels into the ground to no avail. This person was amazingly strong if the muscles on his forearms were anything to go by. Struggle as he might, he couldn’t wiggle out of the strong grip and the boost of adrenaline could have been a sip of coffee for all the good it was doing him.

Soon he was shoved away from the hard body behind him and stumbled forward into a brick wall, falling to his knees before he slammed his nose into it. Finally, he thought he would be able to turn around and face this threat head on, but a paw-like hand came down upon his head and held it firmly in place as a thick strip of cloth brushed against his lips. Then the hand was removed and then the cloth was tightened from behind his head, painfully pushing his lips open and effectively gagging him. The act was literal too as the fabric held his mouth open at an odd angle and his hair-trigger reflex had him doubled over and dry-heaving. And then that didn’t matter. All that he could feel was the hand back in his hair, yanking hard against the locks and lifting him from the ground, despite his muffled cry of pain. His eyes were cinched shut but they flew open real quick when cool metal clinked and locked against his wrists.

Handcuffs, his eyes revealed to his disbelief; he had been handcuffed. With as gangly as he was, he depended greatly on his arms to balance him out and now with them severely hindered, any chance of escape would likely be thwarted instantly. Now he was truly helpless, unable to call for help or even crawl away. Where did people get these things from? Christ, it was maddening!

The hand in his hair roughly shoved him against the wall and he cried out as his head exploded in pain and stars erupted in his vision. The pointed metal of a blade suddenly dug into his back catching at his shirt to tear it open as it began a slow descent downward. Then it lay in a useless piece on the ground, thrown carelessly beside him.

For a moment, his brain couldn’t comprehend the need for that. If this attacker wanted money or to kill him he’d had more than enough time for the opportunity but a sudden clarity washed over him, quickly followed by a profound horror that left him nearly immobile with the shock. It came when the man suddenly yanked him up by his hair again and tugged on his jeans, jerking hard enough to cause an angry burn along his skin as the denim aggravated the bones of his hips and the skin of his thighs.

It was clear at that point that this man wanted more than his money.

In a final act of defiance, Gavin twisted and thrashed about, trying to break away. He could make it to the Ramseys’ house. It was just up the road. He could make it, dammit! But his attacker had other plans and jerked his head to the side, forcing him to fall forward and catch himself with his knees and forearms before his face could smack the pavement. This left his ass in the air and the man wasted no time with the opportunity, yanking down his boxers and placing one of his giant forearms on the back of the Brit’s neck to keep him down. He couldn’t hold back the whimper of despair then.

This was happening… Oh god this was actually happening…

Gavin heard the unceremonious sound of the man unzipping his own pants before he felt a large finger poke around his entrance. He jerked, but hit his head against the cool metal of the dumpster he had landed near and whimpered again, more pain snapping through him. He was vaguely aware of warm, sticky liquid sliding down his forehead, joining his tears and realized he must have been bleeding from the brick wall his face had met earlier.

Suddenly, the finger shoved inside him without any warning or any indication of leniency and he cried out loudly, jerking away from the burning sensation that spread through him like wildfire and consumed his thought processes. His attacker hadn’t even been generous enough to lube up his fingers at all and he had already had inhibitions about having anything shoved in his ass in the first place. This was just making everything worse. Fuck prostate exams and colonoscopies and especially fuck this guy.

The man seemed to become impatient as he thrust his finger quick and hard. Just as the Brit beneath him relaxed, he inserted another finger, shoving past the resistance like a bulldozer and after a couple more thrusts and a single scissoring motion, added a third, damn near jamming his fingers into him in an effort to loosen him up.

The pain was blinding at this point and screaming didn’t help because the gag just muffled the sound, but it was impossible to resist the impulse. The slight stress relief from emitting the noise helped with the agony and though he knew the man was trying to prepare him, he had to have known it wouldn’t work in the first place. There was no way he was just going to relax and take it. They weren’t lovers. This was far from loving. No he’d have to endure every inch of pain this guy was going to give him because God knew it wasn’t going to be easy and he wasn’t going to just slide in. He was going to bleed and burn and want to tear himself inside out. He was being raped; it wasn’t going to be enjoyable at all.

All at once, the fingers suddenly exited his body, and though Gavin would have liked to breathe a sigh of relief, he knew what was coming, and  _relief_  wasn’t quite the word that came to mind. He tried to jerk away again but the man’s now free hand moved around to shove the gag further into his mouth. He could feel his rapist’s chest pressed against his back as he lined himself up and the Brit fisted his hands, nails biting into his palms as he tensed and breathed heavily through his nose, waiting for that searing pain to begin.

But begin was a very delicate word in this situation because there was no actual differentiation between the start and continuation of pain. Everything just suddenly happened. One moment he was waiting for the worst agony of his life and the next he was filled and being rammed into repeatedly. There wasn’t even a steady entrance; the man just shoved his way in like he owned the place and ignored the screams and protestant writhing and the blood that now acted as lube. Gavin bit against the fabric in his mouth so hard he was sure he cracked a tooth and the rough thrusts made his head ram into the dumpster over and over again. He knew he would have a headache later if he even survived this.

His attacker just continued to pound into him and he must have gotten bored because Gavin felt his hand reach down between the Brit’s legs and grab his cock, which was somehow hard, before squeezing roughly. How could he be enjoying this? How could his body betray him this way? What was wrong with him? Another hand came up and wrapped around his throat, cutting off his airways for a moment before letting him gasp through the fabric and then returning to choking him, the pressure in his head mounting and mounting until he was sure he was going to explode.

He knew his palms were bleeding and his wrists were going to be bruised from the handcuffs biting into his skin but being abused in multiple ways at once made the walls start closing in on his vision. Everything suddenly seemed so far away even though he knew it was right in front of him. His peripheral was going black and he felt as though he were looking down a dark tunnel. He was going to drown in this darkness and yet, it was still more welcome than what he knew was transpiring on the other side.

So he reached for it; embraced it and fell away into a hushed limbo where everything was numb and he couldn’t feel a thing.

Waking up was a different story. There was no numbness; no reprieve from the pain that radiated through him in waves of heated, molten agony. Every spasm, every slight jerk of involuntary muscle screamed throughout his nervous system and left him breathless.

From the sounds he could barely make out past the rushing in his ears, his rapist had just finished the job and tossed him aside like a broken toy. His wrists were un-cuffed, bleeding as they were, and the gag was removed from between his lips. The only thing that signaled the departure of the man was his swift footsteps echoing throughout the alley.

For a while, he guessed maybe an hour, Gavin simply lay on the ground, pants tangled in his legs and blood and other bodily fluids staining his skin. He didn’t want to move; didn’t want to face the reality or deal with the pain that lanced through him whenever he even  _thought_  about moving, but he knew he had to; knew Geoff and Griffon would start to worry if he didn’t show up soon.

So, shaking, he held back whimpers as he pulled himself to his knees, stopping to lean against the dumpster for support as he gathered the strength to move again. He wished he could become desensitized. It would make this so much easier, but his life couldn’t be that simple or forgiving.

A cool breeze blew into the alley and Gavin bit his lip and shivered as it brought to light, not only the tears on his face, but the sticky liquid on his back. His attacker had left him some other marks it seemed. He ignored the feeling and used the dumpster to help himself to his feet. His legs gave out on him a couple times and the receptacle was kind enough to catch him as he fell and grabbed his shirt from the ground on his final attempt at standing.

He whimpered as he pulled the sleeves over his arms, not caring that the back was no longer a functioning part of the shirt, and then reached down to pull up his boxers and jeans, the action causing a lot more pain than he really wanted and he nearly found himself face to face with the side of the dumpster again. Slowly, he leaned against the brick wall and caught his breath trying to assess the probability of him making it to the Ramseys’ without passing out halfway there. It didn’t look good, so he patted his pockets gently until he felt his phone.

Pulling it out made him release a sound caught somewhere between a sob and a groan of despair. The screen had been broken and the phone itself refused to work. It must have been crushed under him when he was pushed to the ground after his jeans had been shoved down to his knees. He thought about dropping the device then shook his head and placed it back into his pocket before turning to the mouth of the alley.

He was scared; he wasn’t going to deny it. He was terrified to leave the alley and face the reality of everything that had just occurred. He was going to be treated differently now. He was going to be looked upon as weak. He was going to be tortured day and night with this single memory and there was going to be nothing he could do about it. This was going to be his life now; a rape victim; a statistic; an idiot who drunkenly walked home despite the negative feelings that told him he shouldn’t. Would the others send him back to England? Would they be disgusted by his presence? He  _already_  disgusted himself, he didn’t know if he could handle everyone else’s disgust too. Would they even believe him about what happened? For Christ’s sake, he had actually been aroused at some point, knew he had ejaculated into the hand of his attacker and, goddammit, he didn’t understand! What the hell was wrong with him?

The thoughts made nauseous and he couldn’t hold back the vomit, doubling over to empty his stomach.

Despite his rampant mind and illogical worries about the reactions of his friends and family, he couldn’t deny that whatever happened, they would at least give him one thing; help. So his feet moved him slowly but surely to mouth of the alley, ignoring the pain that speared through him with the movement, and he started the trek back home. What would have been a normal 5 minute walk turned into 20 minutes and as he reached the front door to the Ramseys’, he fumbled with his keys before finding the right one and letting himself in. He just wanted relief from everything and the familiar sight of the house he’d come to recognize as home almost made tears of unbridled joy stream down his cheeks.

Griffon was the first to poke her head around the corner and was the first to swear and jump to his aid as he stepped into the foyer. Geoff was quick to follow as he swayed before falling against his best friend’s wife, limply. She grunted with the effort to keep him standing, “Gavin, what happened? Did you get into a bar fight?”

“Griffon, let him down.” Geoff helped her to lay him down on the soft carpet on his stomach.

The next sound was Griffon’s squeak of terror, followed by Geoff’s breathed curse and he knew that the bloodstains told them exactly what had happened. And then Gavin was convulsing on the ground, shock and trauma and horror and despair all crashing into him at once. The movement wasn’t pleasant and choked sobs escaped him in time. Then he felt Geoff’s arms curl under him (when had he gotten so strong?) and lift him from the floor, flipping him to a bridal position before carrying his limp body to the car.

“I’m taking him to the hospital.” He called over his shoulder to Griffon who nodded, standing at the door and watching the car pull out of the driveway.

The whole drive there, Gavin had curled into his seat, whimpering and muttering and shaking violently and Geoff didn’t know what to do or how to react. His whole body was tense and his friend’s wasn’t much better. He wanted to place some kind of comforting hand on him but he wasn’t sure if the Brit would want any kind of contact, so he kept both hands on the wheel and occasionally looked over at the wreck of a man in his passenger seat.

Walking into the hospital was a stress within itself. This was the emergency room; shouldn’t there have been a little more urgency in the steps of these nurses? They all just sat behind their desks and stared at their clipboards despite the fact that the entire waiting room was nearly full. He was carrying Gavin bridal style again and rushed over to the help desk where a tired looking nurse greeted him apathetically.

“Can I help you?”

“My friend… I don’t know he just crashed into my house covered in blood. I think he’s been raped. He needs help.” Geoff tried to get the urgency across but it didn’t seem to phase the woman.

“Alright, I’ll need you to fill this out and a doctor will be with you shortly.” She handed him a clipboard which he starred at incredulously.

“This is the emergency room. He needs help now; not in twenty minutes.” Geoff could feel his anger mounting. He didn’t normally get angry but his best friend was shaking and bleeding in his arms and was traumatized beyond belief.

“Sir, this is all we can do for now. Please go take a seat.”

The low sort of growl ripped from his teeth, “If we wanted this kind of treatment, we would have taken him to the fucking doctor.”

“Sir, you need to calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down! He’s bleeding! He can’t even stand me touching him and you’re not doing anything about it. He needs help now!”

“Sir—“

“Fuck this.” Geoff readjusted his hold on his friend before storming out of the hospital and driving back home. He nearly kicked down the door when he walked in and Griffon came to meet them.

“What happened?”

“They didn’t even try to help him. The place was full. It would have taken at least a few hours before anyone attempted to take care of him.” He walked into the bathroom with Griffon in tow, “I figure he’s been uncomfortable enough for tonight. So I brought him home.” He set the younger man into the bathtub gently.

“Do you need anything?” she asked, her hand on the doorknob as she waited for an answer.

“Alcohol would be a good start. And some bandages from the first aid kit.”

His wife nodded, “’I’ll grab some cotton balls too for you.”

“Thanks.”

The older man turned and closed the door as Griffon left before returning to attend to Gavin. He reached forward to grab his shirt but the man flinched away from him and Geoff pursed his lips, “Gavin, I want to help. Can I get you cleaned up?”

The Brit had curled into himself in the corner of the tub and was currently a whimpering mess, eyes cinched shut tightly. Still he nodded and shakily extended his arms to make it easier to remove his shirt. Geoff was gentle about it, tugging lightly at the sleeves and making sure to touch his friend as little as possible. Thankfully the back had already been torn open so there wasn’t a lot to removing it. Moving down to Gavin’s feet, he pulled his shoes and socks off and tossed them in the corner of the bathroom.

Then came the hard part. Gavin was still curled up so reaching down and forcefully removing his pants was out. Geoff did the only thing he could think of and asked nicely, “Gavin, I need you to take off your pants, okay?”

It seemed to take a moment to sink in before the Brit’s hands shakily moved away from their sheltered position against his chest and moved down to his waist, fumbling with the button on his jeans. He couldn’t seem to make his fingers work like they were supposed to and it was starting to pull little sounds from his throat of pained frustration.

Geoff couldn’t take the sight so he gently brushed his fingers against Gavin’s to signal him to push them away, “Can I do it? I can help you, Gav. It’ll be okay. I won’t hurt you.”

And as that sentence pushed its way into his brain, Gavin felt a sob rip from his chest. As much as he trusted Geoff, the thought of another man’s hands touching him anywhere below his beltline was terrifying and he covered his face with his shaky fingers. He wanted to trust Geoff so bad, didn’t want to feel the disgust wash over him, didn’t want to think of Geoff as a potential threat, didn’t want to taste the bile at the back of his throat, but it couldn’t be helped. He didn’t really know what to think anymore. He just wanted to curl up and die.

But he felt Geoff pop open the button of his jeans and slowly pull down the zipper before moving down to pull from his pant legs, “Gav, lift your hips for me so I can take these off.” The compliance was subtle but enough and the jeans were discarded with the rest of the pile on the floor. The same care was handled with the Brit’s boxers and when he heard Geoff’s breath hitch, Gavin decided to peek out from between his fingers to see what the matter was.

“Oh my god, Gavin… That’s just…” Geoff visibly shuddered and had to look away, choosing instead to stare intently at the faucet handles of the bathtub as he turned on the hot water.

Gavin’s eyes ventured down to the newly exposed areas of his body and the sight made an involuntary spasm jerk through him and his knees curled up to his chest and he buried his face within them. His entire shaft and the bone of his hips were covered in purple bruises from his attacker’s fingers and he could still feel them gripping and squeezing like a residual phantom energy.

Warm water began to lap at his skin as the tub filled up and he heard a knock at the bathroom door. Geoff promptly stood to answer it, retrieving the item that Griffon had returned with and whispering in a low voice to her. When he came back, he set the items on the counter and handed him a washcloth, “I’ll let you wash up by yourself. You probably don’t want me in here. If you need anything, just holler.” And he stepped out, closing the door behind him and leaving Gavin to his own devices.

Geoff guessed that was probably his first mistake. He wasn’t gone five minutes before he heard the water splashing in the bathroom and came rushing back into to find his friend compulsively scrubbing at his skin, making it bleed.

“Gavin!” He yanked the washcloth away and tossed it aside, looking down at Gavin. The boy was shaking still, confused as he looked up at him with dark and heavy eyes.

“Geoff, I’m dirty. I’m trying to get the dirt off.”

“You’re clean enough.” The older man sat on the toilet lid with a heavy sigh and looked at his friend for a moment. Gavin was sitting in reddish-brown, murky water and stared back at him for a total of 5 seconds before he had to look away. Geoff ran a hand through his hair and grabbed the bottle of alcohol and the cotton balls, pouring some of the sharp smelling liquid onto one of the fluffy pieces, “Come on. Turn your back to me.”

The Brit hesitated but did what was asked, hissing when the cotton touched the cuts on his back. Geoff marveled at how the man had suck precision. The cuts weren’t too deep but they would leave scars and the older man sighed. Gavin already had a problem with hating how his body looked; this certainly didn’t help by any means.

One by one, the cuts were cleaned on his back until Geoff asked him to turn and face him so he could clean up the cuts on his forehead. His hair was matted from blood and sweat and the older man wondered how he was going to wash it out. He had learned his lesson the first time and absolutely refused to leave Gavin alone now. He bit his lip as he thought and when he deemed the gashes on his friend’s head were thoroughly cleaned out, he stood and pulled the plug in the bathtub.

The water swirled until it drained away and Geoff helped the Brit to stand and closed the shower curtain before turning the shower on. He heard the slight yelp as the water began to pelt Gavin’s skin, “I’m staying right here.” He told him, sitting on the toilet lid again, “Just wash your hair and rinse off and we’ll bandage you up. When you’re done, turn off the water and I’ll hand you a towel.”

The shadow behind the curtain didn’t move for a solid 3 minutes and steam was starting to fill up the bathroom, but then he saw the shaky silhouette reach for the shampoo and start to scrub at his head. It took a little longer than Geoff would normally expect but he assumed the magic of hot water was working itself into Gavin’s limbs and helping to calm him down.

Soon the shower stopped and the older man shoved a towel past the curtain, feeling it slowly slide from his fingers as the Brit took it to dry himself off. With the towel wrapped around his waist, Gavin pulled the curtain aside and slowly stepped from the bathtub. Geoff sat him down on the toilet seat and grabbed the bandages on the counter, beginning to cover the cuts and gashes carefully.

During the process, the older man watched his friend’s face and the way he seemingly stared of into nothing. His skin still twitched but it wasn’t as bad as before. It seemed that Gavin had receded into himself, trying desperately to shut his mind off so he didn’t think about what happened. The more Geoff watched, the more he doubted that method was actually working.

The strength of the Brit’s recessive capabilities was very low mostly because he hadn’t had much to repress over the last decade. He led a happy, carefree life devoid of such traumatic experiences so it was no surprise that he was having problems fending off the thoughts and the feelings and the questions and the pure horror of exactly what happened. The recollection of the events flashed before his eyes like a broken tape player and he would jerk a bit in Geoff’s grasp. The calloused hands on his skin, though they were friendly, didn’t help his predicament either.

The older man carefully watched the younger’s face. The expressions would shift slowly and mold with the emotions that he didn’t try to hide. Eventually one emotion rose to the surface and drowned all the others out; unbridled despair. His eyes watered and tears began to flow freely as his breathing stuttered and he hid his face behind his hands, horror filled sentences spilling past his lips, “What have I done? I let this happen. This is all my fault.”

Geoff dropped the bandages in disbelief before grabbing his friend’s face, not caring that the man probably didn’t feel safer that way, but instead trying to get a point across, “Gavin, it wasn’t your fault. This didn’t happen because of anything you did wrong, or where you were. It happened because a very sick and angry person made a terrible decision to do this to someone.” He shook the Brit a bit to get him to open his eyes and see him, “Gavin, look at me.” Slowly the younger man complied, opening watery erinite-colored eyes to see him blurrily through tears, “I am so sorry that this happened to you. You didn’t deserve it, and it’s  _not your fault_. Don’t you dare think that it is.”

Shaky hands gripped at Geoff’s wrist with desperation; desperation to believe what he was saying, but the psychological impact made it nearly impossible. His illogical processes told him that there wasn’t anyone else he could blame and unfortunately they were overriding the rational parts of his mind. He was the idiot who elected to walk home when he knew he was being watched. This was entirely his fault. He was disgusting and dirty and he should have been more careful.

_I want to believe you, Geoff… so much… so much it hurts… but how can I?…_

The older man shook his head and sighed, realizing that he wasn’t getting through and grabbed Gavin’s pajamas from the counter where Griffon had set them earlier. He handed them to him, “Here. Get dressed.” Then returned to the sink and promptly ignored the other man so he didn’t feel uneasy by him watching. He busied his hands with cleaning off the counter and throwing away the trash.

It didn’t take Gavin too long to slide the fabric over his skin and wait with anxious and bated breath for Geoff to finish. His body was blocking the door, so there was no way that the Brit was going to try to push past him. Not now. Not after…

A whimper escaped him and he shook his head.  _No. Stop that. Stop thinking about it._

Geoff opened the door then and held out his hand for Gavin’s, giving the other man the option to back out and silently asking if there was still a small modicum of trust between them.

Trembling fingers reached forward and found Geoff’s and the older man led the Brit back to his room and helping him crawl into bed without hurting himself further and pulling the covers over him, watching him curl in on himself and cinch his eyes shut tightly. At that point, Geoff wasn’t sure if he trusted the younger man to be alone, but regardless, he turned to walk out and felt fragile fingers grip at his wrist before he could walk too far away. Blue-gray eyes turned back to look at the Brit.

“Don’t… don’t go… please…” Gavin swallowed and looked down at the carpet, and Geoff couldn’t help the empathetic expression that crossed his face, “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t… Don’t leave me alone… Please…”

Geoff would have rather stayed, to be honest so it didn’t take a lot of convincing on his part. Gavin had been alone when he was attacked; it made sense that he didn’t want to be alone now. The older man moved back to the bed and sat on top of the covers, wrapping a protective arm around his friend who tangled the fingers of a fist tightly into his shirt, “Don’t apologize.”

“But—“

“No. Gavin, I don’t understand what you’re going through, but Griffon and I care about you. If you want to talk to us about this, you know we’ll listen. We want to be people you can trust to be helpful to you, whenever you’re ready. There’s no need to apologize. We’re here for you, alright?”

He heard the Brit swallow again and curl up tighter against him before mumbling a soft “thank you.”

Geoff ran a fatherly hand through his friend’s hair in acknowledgment, “We’ll take you to the doctor tomorrow.”

A shaky nod was the only response Gavin could give before a thick and inescapable exhaustion settled within him so heavily that he could feel it in his bones and he was pulled back into the blackness that had saved him earlier, sleeping deep and dreamlessly.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> People on tumblr have been asking me to continue this so maybe???


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